I cannot help but miss it.
Being loved,
Being in love.
The warmth your eyes radiated as you looked at me.
The softness of your hands as they strolled my body,
freely, and confidently,
they knew their way,
and they knew where they wanted to land.
The grip you had on me,
keeping me close to your body,
hoping that that's where I'll stay
You held me tight enough to know that you needed me,
but loose enough for me to slip away if I wanted to.
The words of reassurance that you constantly expressed,
you verbalized,
you wrote,
and you were there,
always,
You were always there.
The serenity my heart got to feel,
for a small fraction of time,
I was certain,
that this was it,
you were it,
the one i'll let myself go to.
And I let go,
I gave you my love,
I gave you my body,
I gave you three quarters of my heart,
but I was never able to give you all of me.
I miss it,
and I don't know why,
because no matter what,
I'll never give you all of me,
I'll always be strained by fear,
To let yourself go is the worst thing you can do.
Because if you no longer have yourself,
who do you have?
A shadow of a person you used to know.
Exposed,
unprotected,
unarmed,
and open to the harm that could be you.
And so I denied myself the love,
to deny myself of the pain.
And hence,
I am stripped of the right of missing it;
being loved, being in love,
missing you.
Because to have such a right,
I should've stayed,
and fought for you,
like you fought for me.
YOU ARE READING
Behind Her Eyes: A Collection of Poetry.
PoetryHere are my words, thoughts, and most importantly, all the feelings I burry. I've finally gathered the courage to share them, and to share a part of me. Here are the thoughts that visit me through the night put into words; of all there is to fee...
